The Past is Back
by NewYorkNewYorkGirl
Summary: What happens when a familiar face or two comes back from the past? Set after the movie. Reviews muchly appreciated! I disclaim. I own nothing, except original characters and story ideas. Please don't sue, I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

Chris sighed distractedly as she wandered through her house, picking up blankets and other objects that had been thrown haphazardly around the room. It would have been a pefect way to spend some free time at home - being domestic. Except she was supposed to be at work.

It was a slow night, and most crimes were able to be resolved by the LAPD. The team had been lifting weights and working out in the gym when Emily, Eliza's babysitter, called. The young girl who was a Senior in high school was frantic. Eliza was running a temperature of a hundred and two and couldn't stop throwing up. All she wanted was her mother.

She was relieved as hell when Hondo told her to pack up and go home, but to be prepared should they be called out. There was no point in her hanging around waiting when her daughter needed her.

"How ya feeling, munchkin?" she asked softly, gently placing the back of her hand on her daughters forehead. She still felt warm, but as a mother, she knew that fevers just had to run their course.

Eliza moaned in response to her mothers question. She was curled up on the couch, shivering. Despite a fever, she felt cold, though her mother told her differently. Her normally dark skin was unusually pale. The babysitter had placed a garbage can next to her when she couldn't stop throwing up. The box of kleenex was now half empty.

Eliza had been feeling ill for a few days and they'd already gone to see the doctor who said it was a touch of the flu, and that there wasn't much he could do to allievate how she felt. Chris hated seeing her baby like that.

"I think it's time you go to bed," she said firmly, but quietly.

Eliza shook her little head in protest. She had spent much of the last three days in bed.

Chris smirked a little. "Alright, a few more minutes, and then you're going to bed. Got it?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

Chris wandered into the kitchen to boil some water when the phone rang. She grabbed the cordless from it's base and answered. "Hello?"

"Hey," Jim smiled. "How's Eliza feeling?"

"Miserable," Chris answered, smiling gently at the fact that Jim called.

They had been partners now for nearly a year. But only recently had they taken their relationship off the job from flirting, to something more. Neither were really sure what it was, but both knew that they were happy to find out. A little scared, but it was a great feeling.

The team just couldn't know. Not yet. Not officially. But they both suspected that their team mates knew that something was going on . . . they knew that the department would frown upon partners being romantically involved, but at this point, there was nothing prohibiting it, either. It was a technicality, really.

Partners of LAPD were prohibited from seeing one another, but it didn't specify SWAT officers as being under the same restrictions. Chris was the first female SWAT cop on the beat. So far, after a year, she was still the only female.

"You don't sound so good yourself," he told her.

"Shut up, man," she said half-heartedly, and without malice. "Just tired."

"Yeah we have been pulling long shifts lately," he summed up. He sat down on the bench near his locker. Hondo had permitted them a short break before they would run a couple of simulations.

"Yeah, having a sick kid doesn't help," she sighed. She looked into the living room and did not see her daughter on the couch anymore. "Eliza? Where'd you go?" She could feel the panic rising in her throat. She couldn't describe it. But she felt like there was evil lurking.

There was no response from her daughter. "Eliza?"

"What's going on?" Jim asked. He knew that Chris hadn't been at ease lately. But he also knew that it wasn't normal for Eliza to just disappear, or to not answer when her mother called for her.

"I can't find her," she answered quickly.

"Mommy," Chris heard.

Jim heard Chris breath a sigh of relief and he could only assume that her whereabouts were now known.

"Oh, baby," Chris said gently as she opened the downstairs bathroom door.

Jim heard the toilet being flushed. "She was in the bathroom," she informed him.

He smirked. "Obviously."

"Shut up," she said with a little more conviction and amusement this time as she ushered Eliza out of the bathroom. "What's that smell?" she asked quietly to herself.

He laughed. "Well, you know, if you were just in the bathroom with a sick kid -"

"It's gas," she said.

"Funny, you read my mind."

"Oh, God," she whispered before dropping the phone. "ELIZA!"

His heart dropped in his chest as the phone fell to the hardwood floor with a thud. Suddenly, the phone went dead.

"Chris?" Jim asked. "Chris?" He stood up from his place on the bench near his locker. Deke and Hondo who were almost completely dressed in their SWAT gear turned to look at Street. He ended the call he'd placed to Chris when it was obvious that she wasn't going to answer him. "The line went dead."

"What'd you say to piss her off this time?" Boxer asked as he came out of the mens washroom. "Carlson is already waiting outside, Hondo." Carlson was TJ's replacement on the team.

The Police Commissioner came barrelling into the room. "Where's Sanchez?" he barked.

"Home," Street answered quickly. "Why?" His heart beat increased. Something definitely wasn't right.

"We just got a report that the house located at 845 Wellington Avenue just blew up."

"That's Chris' house, isn't it?" Boxer asked, stunned.

"She said she smelt gas," Jim whispered, unable to move for a moment. When he realized that he was just standing there, his entire body took off like a bullet from a gun.

TBC . . . .


	2. Chapter 2

"Jesus!" Hondo barked as he sat up in the front passenger seat of the Suburban that Jim was driving.

"MOVE!" Jim barked at the people in vehicles that surrounded him, though they couldn't hear him. His jaw was set tightly as he sped through the busy LA streets, his police lights flashing.

The normally 20 minute drive from SWAT Headquarters to Chris' home took seven minutes. To Jim, though, the dangerously fast ride seemed to take forever.

As he turned on to the street, he slowed drastically, due to fire rescue and police vehicles that littered the narrow roadway. And of course, the onlookers.

His heart was beating wildly in his throat, so loud that that was all he could hear.

He thrust his foot on the brake, the large SUV lurching to a stop. His door was open before he had even finished throwing the gear shift into the park position.

When he neared the barricade that had been set up around the perimeter of the house, a large fire fighter grabbed his shoulder, preventing him from going any further.

"I'm SWAT," Jim told him, shrugging the mans arm away.

"No individual other than those battling flames are allowed any closer," the gruff voice told him. "Not even SWAT."

Jim turned to give the man a steely glare, but as he turned around, he saw them sitting in an ambulance on the stretcher inside.

"Oh, thank God," he whispered. He didn't even give the man a second thought as he quickly headed towards the EMT vehicle.

Chris was hugging Eliza to her side as the girl was being checked out. She kissed her daughters temple a few times, slowly rocking them back and forth, a move Jim suspected she didn't even realize she was doing.

"Hey," he greeted them softly, not really sure of what else to say.

Both brunette heads turned to look at him. He noted their tired eyes, and small smiles that lit their faces when they saw it was him.

"Are you both OK?" Jim asked.

"We'll be fine, won't we munchkin?" Chris tried to sound a little more upbeat than she felt.

"Yeah," Eliza whispered as she leaned her head against Chris' side.

Jim nodded his head and shared a brief look with the EMT. He looked at the man for confirmation that they were fine.

"Eliza, you are a brave girl," he spoke. He pulled out some alcohol swabs to clean a small cut on her forehead. "This is going to sting for a second, OK?"

Eliza nodded her head slightly, closed her eyes, and held on to her mothers hand tightly. She visibly flinched, and cried out in pain when the alcohol swab touched the open wound.

It broke Jim's heart to hear Eliza in pain, and it hurt him to see Chris hurting for her daughter as well.

"Does she need stitches?" Chris asked him quietly.

"No," the girl protested tiredly. "No stitches."

The EMT shook his head no. "It's just a small cut. It should heal itself in a couple of days." He took off the gloves he wore while working on Eliza, and then pulled out a second pair. "We really need to make sure you're OK, Ms. Sanchez," he told her honestly.

"I'm fine," she dismissed him.

"Chris –" Jim started.

"I said I'm fine."

The EMT was frustrated. "You were unconscious. You could have a concussion." He motioned to the bump that was forming on her forehead.

"I'm refusing treatment," she told him, standing up and stepping down from the ambulance quickly, despite the headache that assaulted her temples. She reached out for Eliza to grab her hand and come out of the ambulance, but the EMT stopped her. "What now?"

The man sighed. "I get it. You're stubborn and you don't need anyone's help. Understood. But I know how these things work," he motioned to the burning house. "You are going to have to give your statement to the Police, and my partner and I have to stay here in case of any of the firefighters inhale too much smoke or something and they need medical treatment."

"So?"

"Your daughter is sick and has been through a lot tonight, and unless you have someone here that you trust and can take her home with them, you two are going to be here for a little while yet. She needs to rest. Just let her stay in the back of the ambulance while you get your statement out of the way."

She sized the guy up and realized that he wasn't trying to irritate her. "I'm sorry for being a bitch. It's just been a long night."

"I understand." He stepped out of the ambulance himself and sat down on the tailgate of the vehicle. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on her if you would like to go find someone to take your statement."

"Thanks," she whispered, taking a peak over at Eliza who had already laid down on the bed and was resting comfortably. Well, as comfortably as a kid could considering their house was on fire.

Jim gave the man a thankful nod and then put his hand on the small of Chris' back, guiding her towards a parked cruiser. "How you holding up?"

"Honestly?" she sighed. "Not so good." She furiously wiped a stray tear that trailed down from her eye. "God, Jim. I'm her mother. I'm supposed to protect her."

"You did."

"Did I?" She shook her head, not believing it.

"Hey," he said firmly, grabbing her arm and turning her to face him. When they made eye contact, he could see the fear in her eyes. The glistening, unshed tears. Chris never cried, and she was fighting it so hard. "You are both alive and safe. How can you think that haven't protected her?"

"She could have died tonight!"

"You just about died tonight, too!"

Chris looked at the ground and brought her hands up to her face, shielding the world from seeing her tears fall. Her shoulders shook and all he could do was pull her into an embrace. He kissed the top of her head, much like she had done with Eliza in the back of the ambulance.

A few minutes later, she had recomposed herself and Jim had to ask. So, softly, he asked the question that he'd been needing to know the answer to. "What happened?"

She shrugged. The two leaned against the car casually, as if being careful to not allow their co-workers to see how close they'd become – as if the hug hadn't spoke volumes. "I remember talking to you, and then smelling the gas. I heard a clicking noise coming from the kitchen. I had lit the burner on the stove to boil some water. I just reacted. I got us out the front door and after that, all I remember is being woken up by Mary."

Jim looked over at the middle aged woman who was talking to the police, giving her account of the nights events. Chris continued.

"She said she was sitting on her front porch having a cigarette when we came out the front door, and the next thing she heard was a loud explosion and a ball of flames. Apparently, the two of us were thrown off of the porch."

"Do you think this was deliberate? That someone was trying to hurt you or Eliza?"

Neither of them saw the man in the crowd of onlookers that was staring at them. A man wearing a baseball hat in the dark of the night, standing in front of a burning house in a crowd just did not arouse suspicion. It was normal. It was human nature. But this man was anything but normal . . .

"I don't know," she sighed. "Look at what we do, Jim. I'm sure we're not exactly popular with the people we help put in jail, or with their families."

Jim nodded his head. He understood. "We'll figure it out." He glanced over at Eliza, and the EMT who was still standing guard. There is no way he wouldn't figure it out.

Jim Street was a man who'd prided himself on being a bachelor his entire life. Never being tied down. But something had changed when he met Chris. And her daughter. They were a package deal, and he wouldn't have it any other way. It wasn't until he feared that he'd lost them that he'd truly realize just how much he needed them.

TBC . . .


End file.
